


Figure it out

by Blackghost7



Category: NCIS
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3921286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackghost7/pseuds/Blackghost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s okay, Anthony. I know you’ll figure it out eventually.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figure it out

Tony has sticky fingers sometimes, small objects disappearing into his pocket unnoticed. It started when he was a boy at boarding school, and by the time he left there he had an impressive collection of small items belonging to his fellow students and even the teachers stashed away in his suitcase. They were little keepsakes, he never took anything that had sentimental value to the person he took them from, he took them as reminders of things that happened. On the rare occasion when someone did something nice for him, but more often when something bad happened, because that was just far more usual. They weren’t things that would be missed, but they had value to him. He only had to look at them to recall the occasion on which he had taken it, and remember it in detail. It helped him keep his mind sharp, and could change his mood when he needed it to.  
   
He had an entire drawer at home filled with these little reminders, added to over the years with items from his partners in the various police precincts, and from his early days at NCIS. Reminders of Cait and Ziva that made him smile despite the pain attached to them, keepsakes of Abby and McGee, Ducky and Palmer that brought a grin to his face whenever he glanced at them. The items he’d taken from his friends at NCIS were more valuable to him than the older ones, because these were usually reminders of good things, and it made him happy to see that good things had been happening to him more and more. But sometimes, he needed something more, and then he would open the second drawer to run his fingers over the objects in there. These were his most prized possessions, kept in their separate drawer away from the others, even though there weren’t that many that a separate drawer was really required.  
   
It now held a key ring and a small wooden boat, a piece of paper with a number and a few words scribbled onto it, a bent spoon and a polished pebble. These were of course the items that belonged to Gibbs.  
   
   
The first time his boss had invited Tony over to his house, a few weeks after he had started at NCIS, Tony had been fascinated. Not only because the house was telling him a lot of things about Gibbs that Tony had been wondering about but knew he couldn’t just ask, but also because the house wasn’t locked. Tony, a city boy, had never known anyone who didn’t lock their doors, and he just couldn’t believe that Gibbs didn’t see the need to. But then, he realized that the old decrepit television and furniture wouldn’t really be all that alluring to thieves. He guessed the most expensive items in the house were Gibbs’ tools, which he kept neatly filed away in the basement, and what kind of thief would go after those? Gibbs fed Tony steak and gave him beer, asked him how he was settling in, new job and new apartment and all, and then took him down to the basement where Tony was confronted with the skeleton of the boat for the first time. It became another fascination of Tony’s, that boat in the basement, and for the rest of the evening Gibbs had barely had to say a word, just listened to Tony gush about everything he was seeing. When it was late and time for Tony to leave, Gibbs told him that his door was always open for Tony, and Tony smiled as he made his way upstairs. As he passed the frame on the wall next to the door that held various keys, he smiled wider. The loose key ring caught his eye, and after a moment’s hesitation, he silently removed it from the frame and slipped it into his pocket, a reminder of this evening and a fascinating boss he felt he was already beginning to trust.  
   
   
Ever since then, he had been over at Gibbs’ place many times, never getting over his fascination with both his boss and that boat in the basement. The first time Gibbs told Tony to get a piece of sandpaper and start sanding, he had been nervous about ruining all of Gibbs’ hard work, but Gibbs just laughed and showed him what to do, telling him that he would have to stand there sanding for a very long time before anything would get ruined. While Tony was really getting into the repetitive movement of sanding, Gibbs sat on a sawhorse and watched him, a reversal of their usual routine, and then Gibbs had picked up a small piece of wood and started carving. It was a crude representation of the boat Tony was sanding, only a couple of inches long, and when Gibbs was done with it, he threw it onto the pile of discarded wood in the corner. Tony kept sanding and Gibbs kept pouring him more bourbon, and hours later Gibbs stepped close to Tony and reached out his hand, placing it over Tony’s to halt his movement and take away the sandpaper, and Tony had to hide the shiver that ran through him at the touch. Gibbs’ voice had been gruff but soft.  
   
“Time for bed, DiNozzo.”  
   
“I’ll have to call a cab, Boss. Too much bourbon.”  
   
“No need. Bedroom’s available for you.”  
   
Tony had followed Gibbs upstairs where he had been shown to the bathroom and the bedroom, and as he was falling asleep, Tony had the distinct impression that Gibbs was standing in the doorway looking at him. But when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look, there was no trace of Gibbs, and he could hear the soft footfalls of his boss on the stairs, going down to crash on his couch. It was only in the morning when he woke up and took a good look around, that Tony realized he had slept in Gibbs’ bed, not a guestroom as he had expected, and for a moment a broad smile crossed his face. Then the thought that he had driven the man out of his own bed made him feel guilty. After he had showered and dressed, he went downstairs and made them both breakfast. After a little small talk, Tony got to the point.  
   
“You didn’t have to give me your bed, Boss. I would’ve gladly slept on the couch.”  
   
Gibbs smiled.  
   
“Couch is mine, DiNozzo. I always sleep there. Besides, with your back, bed’s the better choice.”  
   
“Oh. Okay. Thanks, Boss.”  
   
And that was that. After breakfast was done, Tony took his leave, but made a quick trip to the basement claiming he’d forgotten something, and rushed over to the pile of wood in the corner. The little boat was lying there still, and he quickly slipped it into his pocket, a reminder of the first time he worked on the boat, and had slept in Gibbs’ bed.  
   
   
Tony had known about the little box containing the scraps of paper intermingled with pictures for years, having found it on one of his many snooping trips around Gibbs’ house and reading through it all with fascination. Most of the rules he found there he already knew, having learned them from Gibbs the hard way, but some were new to him. It was after the whole mess with Ziva and Tony’s search for her, leaving her behind in Israel to find herself, and Tony found himself in Gibbs’ basement getting drunk. He was rambling incoherently, talking about missing her and how much it hurt, and Gibbs grumbled at him every now and then. After a while, those grumbled words finally registered with Tony.  
   
“You wouldn’t want her back, no matter what, Gibbs?”  
   
“I don’t.”  
   
“Why not?”  
   
“She hurt you. That’s unacceptable.”  
   
Tony smirked a little drunken grin.  
   
“Aww, Boss! I didn’t know you cared!”  
   
Gibbs eyed him carefully for a moment, then grinned back.  
   
“No one gets to hurt you without consequences, Tony. I think it’s even a rule.”  
   
Tony had laughed and taken another drink, and later Gibbs had helped him up the stairs and into bed. Gibbs divested him of his shirt and jeans, removed his socks, and covered him with the duvet. Tony thought he felt a hand brush through his hair for a moment, and a kiss being pressed to his temple, but when he opened his eyes to check, it was already starting to get light and he realized he’d fallen asleep before he could make sure.  
   
Rolling over, he had the distinct memory of laughing loudly about something Gibbs had said, and sobered when he remembered what that had been. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he silently made his way downstairs, checked to make sure Gibbs was still asleep on the couch, and descended into the basement. He found the little box with ease and carefully went through it. There were a few new additions to the box, and Tony read through them quickly, trying to remember them for future use, and froze when he turned one of the cards over and saw it there.  
   
No one hurts Tony. Ever.  
   
The number told him this was a relatively old rule, which must have been added to the box not long after Tony had first found it and gone through it. He stared at it incredulously, not really able to believe Gibbs had a rule about him, and that he had apparently had it for a long time now. He closed his eyes, lost in thought for a few moments. He had been hurt over the years, sometimes even by Gibbs himself, but he also knew that Gibbs had always tried to make it right, whether it had been him or someone else that had hurt Tony. Gibbs had looked out for him and protected him, and had done what he could to keep Tony from getting hurt, both physically and emotionally. Tony was a little overwhelmed by the fact that he was included in this box of rules Gibbs tried to live by, and taught to his team. For a second he wondered if McGee had been taught this particular rule, but he doubted it. Looking down at the card again, he felt a strange warmth blossom in his chest. He knew it was dangerous, this was something Gibbs might miss, but he couldn’t resist. He closed the box and put it away, but let the card slip into the pocket of his jeans, a reminder that Gibbs really cared about him.  
   
   
Tony stared out of the window while he was eating breakfast and talking in between bites, ignoring the silence from Gibbs across from him at the table. It hadn’t happened in a long time, but that Friday evening Tony had joined his boss in the basement again and stayed over when it had gotten late. Zoe was out of town for a few days, and Tony had felt the need to check up with Gibbs, so they had spent a pleasant evening downstairs, drinking and talking, well, Tony had been talking. This morning he had woken up with a smile on his face, as he usually did when he woke up in Gibbs’ bed, and had padded downstairs in his boxers and t-shirt to start breakfast for them both, Gibbs joining him in the kitchen as soon as he had smelled the coffee. Tony was feeling happy and content, things with Zoe were going well, and he couldn’t help share this with Gibbs.  
   
Gibbs meanwhile was looking at the happy expression on Tony’s face as he rambled on about how great Zoe was, and his face was hardening and darkening with every word Tony said. Gibbs had lost his appetite as soon as Tony had started talking, and had clenched his spoon in his hands, taking out his frustration on the innocent utensil. Tony was too busy waxing lyrical to notice.  
   
At last Tony had turned his eyes back to Gibbs, surprised by the expression on his boss’ face, but unable to stop the words he’d been working towards from falling from his lips.  
   
“I’m telling you, Gibbs, it might just be possible that she’s the one who finally makes me happy.”  
   
Gibbs stood abruptly, dropped something onto the table, and disappeared into the basement without a single word. Staring after the man worriedly, Tony wondered what he had said for Gibbs to act this way, but sensed that now was not the time to try to find out. Gibbs obviously needed some alone time. Suddenly not hungry anymore, Tony cleared the remains of breakfast off the table. When he went to take Gibbs’ plate, he saw what Gibbs had dropped onto the table. His spoon. Bent almost double. Tony stared at it in wonder. Gibbs was obviously angry about something, and had taken it out on the poor spoon, but Tony couldn’t figure out what would have Gibbs so upset. After having cleared the dishes and having dressed, Tony stood at the top of the basement stairs, looking down at Gibbs. The other man was stacking bits of wood in the corner of the basement, well, he was throwing them there with force, clearly working out some frustration. Tony queried softly.  
   
“Gibbs?”  
   
It took a few moments, but then Gibbs seemed to pull himself together and at last looked up at Tony. He sighed.  
   
“Go home, DiNozzo. Go be happy.”  
   
Again Tony stared at him in puzzlement for a while, but when Gibbs returned to the stack of wood, placing the pieces on top of each other much more calmly now, Tony turned and walked away. Grabbing his things, ready to leave, he found himself drawn to the kitchen, and there his eyes caught the bent spoon. He quietly slipped it into his pocket, a reminder of Gibbs’ odd behavior, and promised himself he would figure out what had caused it.  
   
   
Things with Zoe didn’t work out in the end, and Tony was more disappointed than hurt, and found himself feeling a little lost. After two weeks of his thoughts running in circles about why it never worked out for him, what he was really looking for, what he needed, who would finally love him, Tony inevitably turned to the one person he could always rely on, the one man he trusted enough to let his insecurities show. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon when Tony showed up at Gibbs’ place again, finding him in the back yard, tending the flower beds. While Gibbs pruned and weeded and raked, and covered the earth with shiny new pebbles to keep the cats from digging into the earth, Tony sat on the steps of the porch with a beer and talked. Eventually, Tony reached the conclusion of his ramble.  
   
“So I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Why can’t I find the one who will accept me for who I am? Who will care for me despite my faults?”  
   
Then he looked at Gibbs, and tilted his head a little as he realized something.  
   
“You know, like you do?”  
   
That made Gibbs look up at him, and they held each other’s eyes for a moment. Tony tried to read what he saw in the blue gaze, but it only confused him. Gibbs got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans, then removed the dirt-covered gloves and walked over to Tony. Being wide awake, Tony this time was sure that he wasn’t imagining the brush of Gibbs’ fingers through his hair, nor the soft kiss that Gibbs placed on his temple. Then Gibbs stared at him intently, holding Tony’s eyes when he spoke quietly.  
   
“It’s okay, Anthony. I know you’ll figure it out eventually.”  
   
Leaving Tony sitting on the porch in wonder, Gibbs went inside to get cleaned up and grab them each another beer. He took his time, deliberately giving Tony some space. When he returned Tony was still staring out into the yard, and Gibbs sat down next to him, knocking a knee against Tony’s to get his attention and give him the fresh beer. Tony shook himself out of it, glanced at Gibbs for a moment, then turned away again. Gibbs took a sip of his beer and with a chuckle, he spoke.  
   
“So… seen any good movies lately?”  
   
That made Tony laugh out loud, and it broke the strangeness between them. Tony talked movies for a while, Gibbs indulging him patiently, and when it was approaching dinner time, Gibbs set up the grill on the porch and got steaks and potatoes. After dinner and cleaning up, they settled back on the porch in the warm evening and spent a couple of hours drinking and playing cards. Whenever Gibbs went inside to get them another drink, and a few snacks to nibble on while playing, he touched Tony's hair or shoulder when he returned. When Tony took a long time deciding which card to play, Gibbs' leg nudged his under the table in encouragement. Tony felt warm and content and cared for, and he smiled at Gibbs frequently, getting a small smile in return every time.  
   
At last it was time for bed, and Gibbs sent Tony upstairs with another kiss to his temple. Tony smiled at the gesture and started climbing the stairs, stopping on the third step to turn back to his boss.  
   
“Goodnight, Jethro.”  
   
In the almost dark, he could just about make out the pleased little smile on the older man’s face.  
   
“Goodnight, Anthony.”  
   
And Tony’s hand closed around the shiny polished pebble he’d picked up from the flower bed while Gibbs had been inside, a reminder of this strange afternoon and evening.  
   
   
A warm hand on his shoulder shook him awake, and Tony grumbled. It was still dark and he was still tired, and he tried to turn over again to go back to sleep. He heard a soft chuckle, then Gibbs’ voice came from very close to his ear.  
   
“Forget it, DiNozzo. Get up. We got a case.”  
   
As he blinked the sleep from his eyes at those words, he felt warm lips against his temple, and then felt Gibbs move away. An odd disappointment settled over him at the distance Gibbs created, but then he quickly got up and dressed, and followed Gibbs downstairs. They were out the door in minutes, picking up coffee on the way, and ignored the questioning glances from McGee and Bishop when they arrived in the bullpen together, Gibbs carrying Tony’s bag as well as his own while Tony juggled coffee and doughnuts for the team. Tony handed out the beverages and the pastries as they assembled in front of the plasma, and at Gibbs’ bark, McGee shook himself out of his contemplation of Tony and Gibbs and started laying out the case.  
   
They spent a hectic couple of days at the office and in the field, barely getting a chance to go home and change, let alone think about things other than the case. But when the case had been solved and reports had been written, Tony stood in front of that drawer, looking down at the items collected there.  
   
A key ring from when Gibbs had welcomed him into his home, and assured him that his door was always open to Tony.  
   
A small wooden boat from when Gibbs had trusted him with working on his boat, and Tony had slept in Gibbs’ bed for the first time.  
   
A piece of paper with a rule, a rule about not hurting Tony, a rule that showed that Gibbs really cared.  
   
A bent spoon from when Gibbs had been upset by something Tony had been saying, and at last he remembered that it had been his remark about Zoe being ‘the one’ that had sent Gibbs storming off to the basement.  
   
And now a polished pebble from when Gibbs had touched him and kissed his temple, and told him to figure it out.  
   
Tony took them out of the drawer and moved to the living room, laying them all out on the coffee table, and staring at them while he sipped a beer. One by one he touched the items, letting the memories wash over him, his mind trying to connect the dots. Figure it out, Gibbs had said.  
   
Gibbs’ door was always open to Tony. Gibbs let Tony sleep in his bed. Gibbs had a rule about not hurting Tony. Gibbs had been upset when Tony had been talking about Zoe. Gibbs had kissed his temple and touched him, and had asked him with both his eyes and his words to figure it out. Tony went through them on a continuous loop, then suddenly stopped. No way. But it was the only logical conclusion. Tony blinked a few times, then leaned back on the couch. He heard the words he had said to Gibbs that particular afternoon echo in his mind.  
   
“Why can’t I find the one who will accept me for who I am? Who will care for me despite my faults? You know, like you do?”  
   
Tony closed his eyes and then began to laugh.  
   
   
Gibbs kept an eye on Tony closely ever since that day. Every now and then Tony was looking at him, studying him, almost scrutinizing him, and then would turn his gaze away and Gibbs could see his mind whirling in overdrive. Gibbs was sure that Tony was indeed figuring it out, and wondered when he would confront Gibbs about it, and also wondered what would happen then.  
   
   
Having reached his conclusion, Tony knew he had more to figure out. Knowing now what Gibbs had meant, Tony needed to know how he himself felt about that. He had never really thought of the possibility, which was probably why it had taken him so long to see Gibbs the way he was starting to see him now. Gibbs was an attractive man, Tony had always been very aware of that, and had felt the excited tingles of arousal around Gibbs more than a few times over the years. But he had always dismissed that, told himself it was just because of the particular circumstances, adrenaline rush from being in danger, having been alone too long so that his attractive boss was starting to look way too good to him, the almost overwhelming personality of the man. Tony was not at all averse to a little male action, had had a few male lovers in his early years, but that had stopped as soon as he entered the police force, not willing to open himself up to the danger of being found out by unaccepting colleagues. And truth be told, there hadn’t been many men who turned his head, not even back then when he was more open to it. It had been years since that had happened when he came to NCIS to work for Gibbs, and he’d been surprised the first time he had felt that attraction again, and had shoved it away as soon as it happened around Gibbs.  
   
So, he told himself, attraction is not a problem. Neither will getting physical with the man be, in fact, he was really looking forward to that, curious what it would be like to have all the intensity of Gibbs’ focus directed on him. But Gibbs was the old fashioned kind, the commitment kind, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen just for a fling. And Tony didn’t want a fling. Because Tony loved Gibbs.  
   
It had taken him some time, but by then he was certain of his feelings. And he was also certain that those feelings had been there for a while now, that it was not just something he was convincing himself of just because Gibbs had feelings for him and because Tony wanted somebody. By then he was certain that it was Gibbs that he wanted, that he needed, that he craved, that he loved. Now he just had to convince the man that that was true.  
   
   
He waited until they had a couple of days off rotation, so he could take his time convincing Gibbs that he loved him without having to worry about being interrupted by a case again. Tony wasn’t nervous when he went over to Gibbs’ place that evening, he was excited and happy. He found Gibbs in the basement, and the older man took one look at Tony and put down his tools to give him his full attention.  
   
“Hey, Jethro.”  
   
“Tony.”  
   
“You love me.”  
   
Gibbs gave a little snort. Leave it to Tony to come right out with it.  
   
“You do, don’t you?”  
   
“Of course I do, Anthony.”  
   
“I love you too, you know.”  
   
“I know.”  
   
“You do?”  
   
“Of course. I’ve known that for a while.”  
   
Now Tony looked a little abashed.  
   
“I thought I was going to have to convince you.”  
   
Gibbs grinned.  
   
“And how were you going to do that?”  
   
“Well, that part I still wasn’t completely clear on, but I thought I’d start by telling you, and then by showing you until you believed me.”  
   
“Showing me? How?”  
   
Tony recognized the teasing for what it was, especially when Gibbs waggled his eyebrows at him, standing up.  
   
“Jethro…”  
   
“Come here, Tony.”  
   
And then they reached for each other, slow and gentle, carefully touching, hands first and finally lips. It was a tender kiss, which set them both on fire, but they deliberately kept it calm and sweet. They took their time, there would be plenty of opportunity for hard and fast later, this was about celebrating their love for the first time. It was a treasured memory for them both over the years, the slow build of moving upstairs and undressing each other carefully, of the gentle exploration of each other’s bodies with hands and lips, of the tender kisses exchanged in between caresses, of the feeling of finally being connected when Gibbs carefully pushed inside and Tony moaned in pleasure, of the delightful build which ended in an overwhelming explosion.  
   
Afterwards, they lay curled together, Tony resting his head on Gibbs’ chest, Gibbs’ arms around his lover, Tony’s hand caressing over Gibbs’ chest and abdomen. Gibbs softly spoke.  
   
“So what are you going to steal to remind you of tonight?”  
   
Tony looked up at his lover, a little worried at first, but seeing the teasing twinkle in Gibbs’ eyes, he smiled a little ruefully.  
   
“You knew?”  
   
“I’ve always known you were a thief, Anthony. Ever since you stole my heart in Baltimore.”  
   
   
 


End file.
